


Cheek to Cheek

by emynn (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:36:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/emynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus is determined to get Harry, even if it means having to put on a pair of magical dancing shoes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheek to Cheek

Severus studied his reflection in the mirror and sighed. He certainly had nothing to recommend him by – his hair was lank, his nose oversized, and his skin sallow. He curled his lips, attempting a grin. No, there would be no awards for Most Dazzling Smile in his future.

Resigned, he smoothed down the front of his shirt. It was black, but that was the only part of his outfit that resembled his usual wardrobe. Instead of billowing robes, he was attired in a shirt that somehow made his pectoral muscles appear much more defined than Severus could have dreamed of and trousers that left even less to the imagination than the shirt. It was thoroughly indecent, but Draco had assured him the style was all the rage.

He returned to his bedroom and opened the box resting on his bed. This would be his saving grace, his salvation, the one thing that ensure Severus would not make a _complete_ fool of himself tonight. 

They were his dancing shoes.

Severus despised dancing. He was constantly out of step, out of time, off rhythm. He felt ungainly and awkward as he attempted to move his feet in time with the beat. And that was just his feet! He knew how ridiculous he looked with his stiff hips and locked knees that refused to loosen and sway to the music. Then, of course, there were his arms – long, cumbersome appendages he never quite knew what to do with.

But with these magical dancing shoes he’d be able to dance all night. _“Waltz wonderfully!”_ the advertisement proclaimed. _“Foxtrot ferociously! Salsa sensually!”_ Of course Severus was never persuaded by mere marketing. He’d done extensive research on the shoes, and had found only favourable reviews. These shoes would allow him to dance with the utmost grace and agility for as long as he wore them. They were perfect. 

Carefully, Severus slipped the shoes onto his feet. They were quite comfortable, well cushioned and with just enough room in the toe. There was nothing to distinguish them from any other shoe, however, other than the red sole that Severus supposed was there to satisfy vain hoofers easily distracted by bright colours. He quickly spelled them to be a much more respectable green.

Straightening, he moved for the door, pleased with the distinct lightness in his feet.

It was time to seduce Harry Potter.

~*~

The club was, of course, appalling. It was entirely too loud and overcrowded. In Severus’ first five minutes he’d had more groins and arses pressed up against him than a groom at a gentlewizard’s club on his stag night. Why anybody would willingly come here was beyond him.

The only positive aspect of the club was that it was dark enough that nobody would see how utterly ridiculous he looked. Of course, this worked against his favour in that he couldn’t find Potter. 

Severus thought about getting himself a drink, but then decided that if he was going to enjoy the pleasure of Potter’s _company_ , he wanted to be sober enough to commit every last detail to memory. Instead he paced the outside of the dance floor, determined to track Potter down.

He found him after only a few minutes, dancing rather closely with a blandly handsome blond. Dancing, however, was far too genteel a term. The two were practically having sex _right_ on the dance floor. It was disgusting.

Throwing back his shoulders, Severus approached the couple and tapped on the offending party’s shoulder. “I’m cutting in.”

“Snape!” Potter exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Cutting in,” Severus repeated. He glared at the other man, who stared, slack-jawed, at him. “I suggest you take your leave. We’re occupied.”

“I was here first!” the man said indignantly.

“I was here for longer than you ever could have imagined,” Severus hissed. “And _will_ be here for far longer. Now leave us. You’re being rude.”

Ignoring the man’s sputtering, Severus returned his attention to Potter. “Shall we?”

“Sure,” Potter said. “Um, what was that about?”

“I came to dance,” Severus said, placing his hands on Potter’s waist. “Now dance on.”

Potter’s arms found their way around Severus’ neck. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I’ve never been here before,” Severus said, pulling Potter closer to him. “Would you rather I not be here? I could leave you to your blond paramour.”

“What? No,” Potter said. Severus noticed that Potter’s hips sways perfectly in time with the music, and, thanks to Severus’ dancing shoes, his matched the tempo as well. “I don’t even know who he is. He’s just a decent dancer.”

“Indeed,” Severus said. “I trust you’ll have no complaints with my own dancing abilities.”

“None,” Potter said. “Only…your arms.”

“What about them?” Severus asked. Then he realised in horror that instead of his hands resting possessively on Potter’s hips, one was resting on the small of his back and the other had captured Potter’s hand in a firm but gentle grip. Startled, he moved his arms back to their original position.

“Nobody’s danced with me like that before,” Potter said. “Not since the Yule Ball.”

Severus’ face burned. Clearly these shoes recognised that what was going on in this club was not truly dancing. He’d appreciate that another time. For now he was humiliated and watching his chances with Potter flee before him. “My apologies.”

“I like it,” Potter said, a shy smile spreading across his face. He adjusted his own hands so they were once again positioned like ballroom dancers. “I always thought you looked so graceful when you danced. So elegant and strong.”

Severus knew he looked nothing of the kind without the aid of his dancing shoes, but he was not about to admit that now.

“I had dreams about dancing with you,” Potter continued. “You’d hold me like this, and I’d feel your arm around my back. And then we’d dance all night, chest to chest, cheek to cheek.”

Encouraged, Severus pulled Potter closer. It was likely closer than the proper position for a waltz called for, but the shoes allowed the intimacy. “You enjoy this,” Severus said.

“I do,” Potter said. Then, barely perceptibly, he pressed up closer to Severus’ body, allowing him to feel his erection. “I like it a lot.” 

“My, my, Mr Potter,” Severus said. He noticed that, despite no thought or effort of his own, he was leading Potter in a careful box step, parting the sea of other “dancers” with their movement. “Do you always get so excited by your dance partners?”

“No,” Potter said. “It’s just dancing with them. With you it’s… more. It’s special.” He glanced up at Severus. “Is it?”

Severus felt his chest tighten. The only way he’d managed to find the courage to embark on this plan to win Potter was to tell himself it was only to get him into bed. And yes, he did want that very much, and if he could have nothing else he would settle for it. But truthfully, he wanted Potter more than just in body. He wanted him in mind and spirit as well. 

“Yes,” he said.

“Good,” Potter said. “Now, shall we dance, or – ”

Severus bent his head down and captured Potter’s mouth in a kiss. Potter’s lips were soft and moved perfectly against his own. While Severus wasn’t sure how many more nights of dancing there would be in his future, he knew for certain there would be many, _many_ more kisses.

“We should go,” Potter said, breathless. 

“To continue dancing?” Severus asked, brushed a hand against Potter’s cheek. Dimly, he was aware of how out of place they looked, a single couple locked in a tender embrace as throngs of others thrust rhythmically against each other. But given whom he was holding in his arms, Severus couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Yes,” Potter said. He squeezed Severus’ hand and a moment later Severus felt the familiar tug of Disapparition.

Severus glanced around his new surroundings. Potter’s bedroom was plainer than he expected, with only a few framed photographs adorning the cream walls. “Have you lived here long?” he asked.

“Two years,” Potter snorted. “I never felt I’d be here for that long, so I never bothered decorating.”

“Do you not like it here?”

“It’s fine,” Potter said, shrugging. “Just never got the feeling this was where I was meant to be, you know?”

“Indeed,” Severus said, continuing to study the room. He wondered where Potter thought he was meant to be, and whether it was a small cottage out in Devon, rather like the one he’d been eyeing the past few months. 

Potter wrapped his arms around Severus’ waist and pressed his lips to his neck. “Now, why don’t you stop paying so much attention to my walls and start checking out my bed?”

Severus growled and pushed Potter back towards the bed, not stopping until Potter was flat on his back and Severus was straddling his waist. “Is this the kind of dancing you had in mind?” he asked, pulling Potter’s shirt up over his head. 

“Oh, yes,” Potter moaned, leaning up to kiss Severus.

Severus took advantage of the distraction to remove Potter’s boots and trousers. After only a moment’s hesitation, and spurred on by Potter’s lips moving to place soft kisses along his jaw line, he removed his y-fronts as well. Potter’s prick burst free, hard and heavy in Severus’ hands.

“Want to see you,” Potter murmured, tugging at Severus’ shirt. “Get your pants off.”

Severus paused. It was ridiculous; he was about to shag Harry bloody Potter, but he was more worried about removing his dancing shoes than revealing his naked form. _All the more sign it has been far too long, old man._ But these shoes had given him the confidence he needed to go after what he wanted. They hadn’t let him down yet.

“Severus? Are you okay?”

Drawing a deep breath, Severus kicked off his shoes and quickly undressed. Then, not waiting another moment in case his nerves struck again, he turned his attention back to Potter.

Potter moved beautifully beneath him, thrusting his erection against Severus’ cock. He whispered and panted, moaned and shouted, Severus’ name never far from his lips. His lips roved over Severus’ skin, as though he were desperate to kiss every part of him. Severus knew he’d quickly become addicted to this.

And when Severus finally slid home, thrusting deeply into Potter’s arse, he knew there would never be anybody else like this for him. Potter was hot and tight and utterly exquisite, more perfection than he’d ever dared to achieve in his life. 

“Harry,” he gasped, because suddenly it was very important that this _was_ Harry, _his_ Harry. “Harry,” he repeated urgently.

“Yes, Severus,” Harry replied, frantically fisting his cock. “I’m going to…I…”

“Yes,” Severus said, thrusting in hard. “Do it. Come for me.”

Harry climaxed with a shout. Feeling Harry’s arse constrict around his cock was too much for Severus, and he followed Harry in release a moment later. Utterly spent, he murmured a quick cleansing spell and collapsed on Harry’s chest. 

Harry’s hand came to rest on Severus’ head. “Your hair’s all messy,” he said, his voice sleepy.

“You’re one to talk,” Severus retorted. “You look like an alpaca with that shaggy mop on top of your head.”

Harry snorted. “I haven’t heard that one before,” he said. “Usually I get ‘windblown’ or ‘freshly shagged.’”

“Clearly they haven’t seen an alpaca,” Severus said, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around Harry’s torso. “And the only times you’ll be freshly shagged is when I’m the one who’s just shagged you.”

Severus could feel Harry’s heart beating rapidly in his chest. “Why’d you come to the club tonight?” Harry asked. “Did you come just to… just for me?”

“When have you ever known me to dance?” Severus asked. “Excluding mandatory events, of course.”

“But how did you even know?”

Severus heaved a deep sigh. Apparently he wouldn’t be able to get any rest before this issue was entirely resolved. _A dancing lover’s work is never done._ “Professor Granger got it into her head that we would be a perfect couple and has been dropping hints since term started. She all-too-casually mentioned over breakfast this week that you’ve taken to going to this club every Saturday night. She’s not as discreet as she’d like to think.”

Harry’s face flushed red. “I should have known she wouldn’t be able to keep a secret. Is that the only reason? Because you knew I’d be easy?”

Severus lifted himself up onto his elbows and looked at Harry. “I would not go dancing, and even acquire damn _charmed_ dancing shoes for the occasion, solely for a shag. I did it because I’m interested in you. Now are you going to fight me on this at every turn, or will you allow me to get some sleep so I can shag you at least twice more before breakfast?”

Harry smiled and kissed him. “The latter.” 

“Good,” Severus said, pulling him close. He pressed his lips to Harry’s cheek and closed his eyes. “The sooner you realise I’m never letting you go, the better.” 

“Sounds like heaven to me,” Harry murmured, curling up against him. “I’ve been in need of a permanent dance partner.”

“You may find you have an odd idea of heaven,” Severus warned, even as he could feel himself drifting off to sleep. “I’m a terrible dancer.”

“Not when we’re together,” Harry yawned, burying in the crook of Severus’ neck so he was nearly underneath him. “Dancing… cheek to cheek.”

Severus had a sharp rejoinder on his tongue, ready to counter with a comment about how their dance had evolved into something far less chaste than the standard waltz. 

But with Harry in his arms, his breath tickling his face, Severus realised it wasn’t worth it to argue. Everything Harry had said was entirely true. Being together with Harry _was_ heaven.

Content, Severus slept, and dreamed of dancing.


End file.
